


Snowman

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fic, Snow, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 07:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12766512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Just a peaceful morning after a sudden snowfall has Gladio remembering all the old promises he missed out on keeping before Insomnia fell.





	Snowman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaciopara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaciopara/gifts).



> Prompted over at my [Tumblr](http://aithilin.tumblr.com/).

It was a rare occurrence to see the snow fall so heavy and so fast. When they were in the Crown City, a heavy snowfall like this had only happened once or twice from what any of them could remember. Freak north-eastern winds carrying grey waters and cold winds across the fortifications and into the city to fall like a smothering blanket across the more than half the urban sprawl. To gather in narrow drifts along curbs and across sidewalks, or pile up along balconies and windowsills, to fall in heavy clumps with muted sounds from awnings and signs into the streets. Most of the extreme weather happened near the Eastern Gate and the districts close to the sheltered ports and piers of Insomnia’s access to the sea. Or closer to the Northern Gates, with the shattered ports just beyond the Wall that used to connect the Galahdian Archipelago to their allies in Lucis. 

Normally, when it snowed close to the Citadel— to the bright apartments and highrises that could not quite compete with the towering fortress— it was just what Gladiolus had always heard called a ‘dusting’. Just a layer of light snow to tease at the idea of a heavy winter far beyond the districts they usually ventured into. Where just the thin layer of white came in with the damp and cold and the news reports from the more exposed districts would talk of inches, feet, whole drifts of heavy, thick snows to hinder traffic and business. 

He remembered standing on the balcony of Noctis’ apartment on the snowy mornings, watching the storm as he understood it, while the cold winds seeped into his skin and he could run a hand over the fine layer of snows to watch it melt. He remembered sipping warm drinks while he watched, hours before Ignis was scheduled to arrive, and Noct’s sleeping whining about the balcony door letting the cold in. And then the startled yelps as he put cold hands on his prince to drag him outside to see the change in weather— despite the protests that the shifting white that was indiscernible from the dull buildings was perfectly visible from inside the warm apartment. 

Gladio remembered thinking, when he saw Noct bundled up to go out— or bundled under a nest of blankets to stay in— that they should visit the harder hit districts to see the snow. To see where the drifts piled naturally in areas and shaped the traffic around them in feet rather than inches. Where he had heard and seen pictures of winter festivals taken when the snow was at its worst. 

He remembered building snowmen with Iris in their own garden, and making promises to take her and Noct out to the hard hit districts to do the same there; where their little constructions might last longer than just a few hours. 

He hadn’t thought of those unfulfilled promises in months. Certainly not since leaving Insomnia, or learning of the tragedy, or focusing only on protecting the prince who was definitely not ready to be a king yet. 

But it was hearing laughter and the footsteps muted against the campsite that reminded him of them. It was waking up late one morning as they camped and deciding that they were going to need a portable heater if they were going to be staying out in the wilds so close to Lucina Sound during weather like this. 

The rain they had travelled in for most of the day before had turned to snow. 

It had fallen across the stretch of wild they had found themselves in and smothered their haven in far more than just a light dusting. The taste of the sea from the north-west was still on the air as whatever winter maelstrom had decided to smother them in the night settled for just dropping a steady fall of fat, sticky flakes on them now. The Haven itself was clear of the snow— thanks to the fire Ignis had raging in the firepit despite the brightness of the morning— but everything below the plateau was a blanket of untouched white and cold. 

Or it would have been untouched if Noctis and Prompto weren’t playing in it with the Chocobos. 

Gladio suspected that it was the excitement of the birds— their happy squawks and shaking feathers, and heavy tread— that woke him more than the cold, or missing Noctis from his arms. 

“I doubt we’ll be going anywhere today,” Ignis said, offering him a mug to warm his hands. “Not until we can take a proper assessment of how bad the storm was.”

“We slept through all this?” The cold was no worse than standing out on the balcony back home, when he used to watch the distant storms that rolled through the city. 

“You did,” Ignis smirked; “I daresay Noct was hoping for this.”

Prompto was already in a heavier jacket and hat Gladio had teased him for thinking to bring before. Noctis in his warmer behemoth jacket, longer jeans rather than the fatigues better suited to warmer areas of the kingdom. Noct had gained possession of Prompto’s black gloves at some stage in their games, patting snowballs together for the Chocobos to snap at while his friend took pictures. 

Gladio couldn’t keep the smile from his face as two of their little flock bowled the prince over into the snow as they tried to get to the snowball he had barely managed to finish. “At least the storm will make it harder for the Nifs to find us.”

Ignis hummed his agreement, before announcing that he would get started on their breakfasts, now that everyone was awake. Eager for hte excuse to warm his hands again, Prompto volunteered his help. 

Before Noct could pick himself up from the playful attention of their birds, Gladio had grabbed his leather jacket from the tent. “I don’t think I can ever leave you alone, if you can barely hold your own against two Chocobos.”

“Bite me,” Noct shooed the birds away, the edge of his answer dulled by his grin. “Like you’d ever wander off again anyway.”

“Depends on how much of a brat you are.”

“I’m not a brat.”

“Yeah, you are,” Gladio scooped up some snow and tested it— heavy, sticky, the product of the fat flakes still falling around them. “It’ll be a while before the food’s ready.”

“So?” He knew that look, that wariness to Noct as he watched the snowball form in his hands. It was a good look— one that had taken years to train into Noct— one that chased away the idle games with Prompto and anticipated an attack. 

“So,” Gladio dropped the snowball and crouched to pull more into a pile; “let’s build a snowman.”

There was a moment of incredulous shock from Noct before he joined in, crouched into the snow to pat the starting ball together. Gladio grinned and pulled the prince in for a kiss before sitting back. “All yours, highness.”

“Mine?”

“Strength training. You got this.”

“You’re such an ass.”

“Get rolling.”

It was easy to start, to tease Noct into pushing the snow around until it was bigger, a proper base. It was even easier to issue the challenge to see just how big they could get it. By the time the first snowball was nearly to Noct’s shoulders, Gladio had taken over. 

Breakfast had been put on hold while Ignis and Prompto watched from the warmth of the Haven. And the Chocobos huddled together in a little kicked out nest to watch and wait and occasionally snap at their clothes as they passed. When Gladio had taken over, Noct had slumped against the boulder in relief, an exaggerated whine and complaint dying on his lips as Gladio crowded him for another kiss, slipping cold hands beneath the jacket to make him squirm, before shoving him off into another snowdrift with the order to start the second piece. 

By the time Gladio was lifting the head into place, Prompto had jumped in to help. To take pictures of their progress and pat the snow into place. The monstrosity stood taller than Gladio, barely. It leaned to one side and threatened to fall over at any moment. But it was up. And as Gladio hoisted Noct to his shoulders to decorate with gathered twigs and feathers and the carrot volunteered by Ignis (which was promptly stolen by a Chocobo), he told Prompto to get a picture to send to Iris. 

Over breakfast he sat with Noct between his legs, stealing bites from his own breakfast with the excuse that he needed the warmth, by the fire. Their creation being pecked at by their birds, and already crumbling under its own weight. Gladio remembered the promises of their youth— the lost chances to see the city covered in the same peaceful blanket, the missed chances to build the same sort of monstrosity in the more familiar, beloved home they had lost. He rested his chin on Noct’s hair as the prince finally just took his plate from his hands, and smiled at their little pile of snow and sticks and feathers. Arms around Noct, Gladio realised that he had stopped missing home some time ago. 

It was enough to keep those old promises now.


End file.
